


This Survival Manual Could Use Improvements

by BrighteyedJill



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Companionable Snark, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Steve's a pretty guy to have around in a crisis actually, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5673949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrighteyedJill/pseuds/BrighteyedJill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After escaping from a dire situation, Tony copes in the only way he knows how. Luckily, Steve is there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Survival Manual Could Use Improvements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheron/gifts).



“I thought you were from Brooklyn,” Tony grumbled as he huddled against the back wall of the cave, shivering.

“I am.” Steve placed another twig on top of the burning ember he’d coaxed to life. “I also led a team of commandos on the western front. I know how to start a fire.”

When Tony couldn’t think of a snappy comeback to that—he’d long ago used up every variation of joke about Steve’s age—he pulled on another thread. “You’re a terrible pilot, though. Crashed the Valkyrie—“

“That was a controlled, _strategic_ descent.”

“And ran the Spirit of St. Louis here into a damn mountain—“

“First off,” Steve said, gesturing with the smoking branch he was using to stoke the fire. “Don’t go giving pet names to the hunk of junk we had to steal to get out of that sorry excuse for a terrorist base.”

“Could have built a suit if you’d given me twenty minutes,” Tony huffed as he crossed his uninjured arm over his chest. 

“Second,” Steve continued, as if he hadn’t heard, “I’m pretty sure even Charles Lindbergh couldn’t keep a plane in the air when both engines are on fire.”

“They wouldn’t have been on fire if you had avoided the incredibly obvious countermeasures when—“

“Fine. Next time I’ve lost four pints of blood, _you_ can stage the daring breakout.” Steve brushed off his hands and pushed to his feet. The fire, grown into a cozy blaze now, threw dancing shadows onto his face that didn’t quite hide his frown.

Tony rested his head back against the rock. His body ached, and the wound in his shoulder throbbed in time with his racing pulse, and the roiling knot of fear in his belly didn't show any signs of letting up. “Hey,” he rasped, and Steve turned towards him. “It’s a laugh in the face of death thing. You know how it is.”

“Yeah.” Steve lowered himself down next to Tony, close enough that Tony could feel the heat radiating from him as well as the fire. “I get it. But death’s not here. He’s not coming, either.”

Tony closed his eyes against the bright glow of the fire. The warmth felt good, but he couldn’t enjoy it. “We’re somewhere in Siberia, in winter, with no supplies, no communication equipment, and a horde of probably-Hydra-affiliated bad guys on our trail, not to mention—“

“One genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.” When Tony opened his eyes, Steve was giving him a raised eyebrow and the hint of a smile. “I still like our odds. We’re not going anywhere until daybreak, so get some rest.”

“This is the thing where you pretend you’re going to wake me up to take a watch and instead you get all heroic and self-sacrificing and let me sleep the whole time?”

“Of course not.” Steve patted his shoulder. “Get some rest, Tony.”

With a string of grumbling that involved only half his usual number of curse words, Tony leaned against Steve’s shoulder and closed his eyes.


End file.
